Jean-Philippe Rameau is perhaps one of the greatest French musicians to ever have lived. Of course, any bold claim like this is bound to have people strongly agree or disagree. Believe what you like, but the quality of his works and his principles and theories on music harmony have literally been a cornerstone of Western music as we know it today.

While Rameau's reputation as a composer lies mainly in the theatrical works, ashamedly I have shunned myself from that genre for the most part. His remaining instrumental works, though few, have had a great impact. On this recording are the so-called Pieces de Clavecin en Concerts, the only chamber music Rameau has ever written. These pieces were written in the latter years of Rameau's career, when he was in semi-retirement, close to his sixties.

The "pieces en concert" genre found success in the French public, during mid-18th century. This was most likely popularized by Mondonville's op.3 works. In short, instead of the harpsichord playing the figured bass and taking on the role of continuo, the harpsichord now took on a major role, and the other instruments (violin, gamba, or even voice) provided the supporting, if not equal roles. The harpsichord parts were completely realized, so musicians of lesser capacity did not need to worry about improvising. A fully written out harpsichord part wasn't exactly new, as J.S. Bach did so for his violin sonatas BWV 1014 - 1019 (those that actually have accompaniment). However, it can be argued that Rameau's arrangement for violin, gamba, and harpsichord is the direct predecessor of the modern piano trio.

Rameau wrote 5 sets of "Concert," each three or four "pieces". As with French Baroque music, their titles are enigmatic and hard to pronounce for me. The recognizable ones are the dance forms (Menuet, Tambourin) and musicians (Forqueray, Marais, Rameau (a bit of narcissism here)). Others, I'm not going to try. Their styles are unmistakably French, richly ornamented, combining virtuosity with a touch of elegance. The harpsichord parts aren't easy, but unlike Italian all-out flashiness, they are packaged quite cleverly. Add to the fact that Rameau really understood harmony and what it could bring to the table, his pieces are thus sonorously richer than most of his contemporaries.

Rameau started out as a keyboardist, and so he also made an effort to claim that these pieces could be played entirely on the harpsichord "after some effort of arrangement." To show this, he made arrangements of four of the pieces. Further analysis revealed that the arrangements are actually a quite thoughtful process, so Rameau's claim isn't exactly that convincing. In fact, the pieces work much nicer as an ensemble.

The musicians feature all-star French harpsichordist Christophe Rousset and Japanese musicians Ryo Terakado and Kaori Uemura, both who have studied in Europe and collaborated with many leading early musicians. This should be a match made in heaven, but in actuality, the playing is more reserved than I expected. In particular, Rousset seems to be holding back a bit more than I am familiar with. Terakado's playing is also plainer and more straightforward. The overall performance isn't bad by any means. In fact, it is a very solid recording: Rousset's harpsichord is nicely balanced, and Terakado's violin tone is smooth and rich. The only thing I hoped for was a little more excitement, a little gesture of playfulness, and some more variety. A recent companion recording I bought by Monica Huggett, Mitzi Meyerson, and Sarah Cunningham does capture the spirit in a way I prefer.

I always stress that French Baroque music for me has always been an acquired taste, and such music really requires an extra oomph to bring out some of the intricacies. I purchased this disc when my appreciation of French Baroque music was light, and so the music did not make an immediate impact on me. Returning to it over and over again though, the music eventually carried through. If Rameau's theatrical works are too grand (and long), and his solo harpsichord music isn't exactly your cup of tea, then I'd strongly recommend trying out the Pieces de Clavecin en Concerts. Rousset et al's performance probably won't dazzle you, but it will provide a good entry point to the French master.

4 comments:

Terakado's instrument is not typical in sound to my ears; his violin's sound is caramel brown, which matches well with the subdued role in the trio with Uemura. This is one of the first Rameau recordings for me, too, and nothing is richer than tracks like Le Livri (the trio version), or more toe-tapping than La Forqueray.

There is debate whether or not the pieces with names name the composers - or their wives... or that the feminine pronoun refers to the piece, and the label simply denoting a favorite of that person.

I've resisted re-buying this music, probably because I've been so pleased with Rousset's other Rameau - his collection of the Pièces de clavecin en suites on L'Oiseau-lyre.

Owning Rousset's collection of the François Couperin suites, this collection is far more accessible, and Rameau, as you state, the better composer.

I have Rousset's complete Couperin keyboard set, and going over the entire set is a feat yet to be accomplished.

I don't have Rousset's Rameau keyboard recordings, a pity. I have another good recording that is equally fiery in interpretation, which I hope to get to next time I come back to Rameau.

For what we are familiar with in Rousset, the playing is really conservative. I think it also owes to the fact that in ensemble playing, you'll have to come to a general agreement, and I think Terakado and Uemura just weren't going to take bigger cuts.